All I Have to Do Is Dream
by CaptainScorose
Summary: When the girl of his dreams is unavailable - him having a girlfriend might have something to do with that - Scorpius turns to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for help. Songfic inspired by the Everly Brother's "All I Have to Do is Dream"


**A/N**: So... I finally updated after like three months of disappearing... sorry? I've been meaning to update it forever, but either couldn't find the motivation or was too busy. Anyway, here she is, all bright and shiny and new for you to love and appreciate and review! (shameless self-plug, but whatever.) i also have finals this week, which i should totally be studying for and not doing this at all, but i always did work better on a time crunch. so plz tell me what you think and wish me good luck! enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling owns.

* * *

He sighed in relief as the brunette that had previously decorated his arm detached herself with a sloppy kiss on his cheek and walked through the doors of Gladrags Wizardwear. They had thankfully decided to end the date a little early because she simply needed a new hat - "I was looking at the catalog last night and there's this new selection of berets, which is perfect because you know how I'm going to Paris over Easter break, right?" - and this purchase could not be accomplished without the spectatorship of her friends.

Initially she had wanted him to accompany her for the headwear modeling, but he had since learned his lesson from their date prior to this one, wherein they had surreptitiously entered the changing rooms under the pretense of a snog. She had also let him feel her up for a bit, which went uninterrupted with the help of a Silencing Charm, until she had pulled away with a giggle and left, promising a surprise when she returned. While he had been thinking along the lines of some slinky black dress robes, hoping to resume their activities, her train of thought was a pile of men's undergarments that had been sized incorrectly. It could have been more humiliating, he later reasoned, to strip and leave unable to finish what they had started, but that was where the broom cupboards came in handy.

So with that fiasco in mind, he declined with a brief shake of his head, stating he needed to catch up with his mates anyway.

"It's always something about Quidditch, isn't it?" She had asked with that light, airy laugh. He just smirked back and offered her another goodbye kiss - her expiration date was approaching soon, she was much too clingy for his liking - and headed back to Hogsmeade High Street, strolling through the doors of the Three Broomsticks.

As always, the pub was packed with both students and patrons, older residents of the village enjoying a pint before they braved the cold.

Scorpius scanned the booths, hoping that the face that had appeared in his dreams the night before - and the night before - was either alone or waiting for someone, meaning he had just enough time to rile her up and saunter over to her table. Maybe he would take a sip of her drink where her lips had touched the glass, or tauntingly interrogate who she was meeting up with, just for the primary source of gossip he sporadically participated in.

Before his eyes finished sweeping the room, however, a familiar voice called out to him.

"Oi!" He directed his gaze to a booth close to the restrooms, and found his best mate, Gabriel Zabini, raising his hand in a mock salute.

"Butterbeer?" He asked in form of greeting.

"Get him a Firewhiskey," chided Noah Pritchard. "He needs his strength after that date with the Leech."

"Sucked all the life out of him, eh? Fill 'er up, boys!" They shared a grin, recalling his last visit to the changing rooms.

He pooled a few Sickles onto the table to join that of Gabriel's, who was in dire need of a pick-me up.

"Now. The Leech?" It was a nickname they had coined for Leanne Davis, a Slytherin girl in their year whose clinginess was almost parasitic. She had the habit of linking their arms and pathetically lending more and more of her weight on Scorpius as they walked, so that she was practically leaning into him. All forms of physical contact with her had lost their appeal, but it would be no loss to him.

Scorpius shuddered, taking a sip of his Firewhiskey. "Should I break it off in two days or three?" He asked, while Gabriel snickered in front of him.

"Depends on how much longer you can stand her, which is looking grim for you either way. You weren't even together for what - three weeks? Four?" Damien Vaisey asked.

Matthew Pucey was thoughtful beside him. "Four and a half. It was after we thrashed Gryffindor." He grinned, leaning back in his seat. As a Chaser, he'd had his fair share of glory for the night, taking Amelia Crooke back to their dormitory for a bit of acquaintance. Of course, Scorpius had been getting to know Leanne, but as Pucey's spellwork was shoddy at best, he'd been the one to _Silencio_ the moaning and creaking bed.

"I think a bit of celebration is in order."

"What for?"

"I will make it my sacred duty that you never forget the goals I scored. That was the best Chelmondiston Charge Hogwarts has ever seen."

"Don't be thick, it's not like you made up a play we hadn't covered in practice -"

But Matthew was on a role now. "It wasn't just the Charge, it was a Porskoff Ploy, with a Reverse-Curve combination."

Scorpius decided to intervene before his pomposity further inflated his ego. "Let me guess, you caught the Snitch as well?" He asked drily. That had been far more of a struggle than Gryffindor possession of the Quaffle, which had concerned Scorpius up until the moment he realized Lily Potter, was bloody fast on a broom.

Matthew relented some, slow-clapping. "Well done, Captain. Too bad Potter didn't let you rematch for her Snitch in the changing rooms."

Scorpius masked his aversion well with a sneer. "Cradle robbing's up your alley, not mine," he said.

Gabriel raised both his drink, and his eyebrows. "Cheers," he said. The glint in his eye was hard to mistake, seeing as they were best mates, and could read each other like a book.

Damien was regarding him with a different look, the look he usually wore when they talked about the Weasley-Potters. It was widely known that there was tension between his family and the former's, for standing on opposite sides during the war. Scorpius had very little to say of a negative connotation that wasn't already shared by the older students who still believed in blood purity: that they were spoilt, and everything was handed to them on a platter because of their parents. He provoked them as necessary, mainly with jabs at Albus and Lily Potter about Quidditch, and the occasional remark at Hugo Weasley for the robes he wore in disarray. His older sister, however, was an entirely different matter…

His eyes snapped up from the pint he'd been staring at to see the three of them sniggering at someone behind them. As subtle as possible, he angled his head to see a very curvy girl sashaying through the crowd to their table. "Ah," he said, failing to contain his smirk.

"What can I get you lads?"

"I'll have anything you're serving, love." It was Damien who spoke, playing his part well. The barmaid's green eyes immediately went to the notepad she carried, then snapped back to scrutinize the rest of the table's occupants. "A gillywater then. And the rest of you?"

Scorpius remained silent, taking in her voluptuous figure - from the nametag pinned just at her cleavage, she was called Chelsea - while Matthew took another Butterbeer.

"I suppose you'll be paying?" She addressed Damien, who smirked confidently.

"I could do a lot more, when's your shift end?"

"Thirty minutes," she snapped, her temper flaring. "And I have customers to tend to, so don't go trying anything." She glared at them for good measure, then left to tend to the fourth year girls at the side.

"Tough luck," Scorpius said.

"Tough love," Damien corrected.

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "I think I'll head back before the Leech catches me here," he said, tossing a few Sickles to the pile in the middle of the table.

"Me too," Gabriel said.

"You sure? You'd be missing some of the most entertaining banter mankind has witnessed. Our very own Damy here against Chelsea?" Gabriel declined, and the two boys tightened their scarves as they braved the cold. They walked past Maestro's Music Shop in near silence, before Gabriel froze.

"Hang on, can we make a quick stop at Wheezes?"

"What could you possibly need from there?"

"You know how Belby's in the infirmary for food poisoning?" He asked, and Scorpius nodded. "Well, Potter's replaced him with this scrawny thing, a third or fourth year I think. Anyway, he hasn't got a decent broom, so they're giving him pick of the Holy Trinity: a Cleansweep, Shooting Star, or Nimbus 2000. Obviously, you'd pick the 2000, but Matt was just telling me that Wheezes is selling this polish that makes your broom jerk around-"

"I bet he'll love that," Scorpius interjected.

"Indeed. It'll do aerials, jackknives, loop-de-loops, you name it. Imagine he's playing his first game, and wham! He hits the field before he's even got his foot on the holders!" Scorpius smirked, because Albus Potter certainly could use a bit of humiliation. Nevertheless, he wasn't too keen on entering their family shop - it felt all the more wrong.

"It's a waste of money first of all, and how do you know he won't just take Belby's broom?" Gabriel was still guiding them towards the bright orange shop.

"Hmm… If it helps, I know the password they use to lock their brooms in the Gryffindor changing rooms."

Scorpius cocked an eyebrow. "Which bird?"

"Wendy Houghton."

"Be my guest." Gabriel opened the door, and was greeted by a cacophony of noise juxtaposed by the violent color scheme of its interior.

Scorpius had never been inside before, and hoped that neither George nor Ron Weasley ran the Hogsmeade branch of the shop. Instead, the girl at the counter was the former's daughter, Roxanne. She arched an eyebrow as they came in, but that gave way to a wry smile when she saw their awe at the vast array of products on the shelves.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" She asked, brown eyes flicking over them.

"Er - yeah, where's that new broom polish?"

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, that? That's not new, but yeah, we should have some."

She dashed to the storeroom, still talking all the while. "It was taking up too much shelf space, because my dad and uncle have been testing out more recent stuff in the Quidditch side of business -" She broke off, and they could hear her rummaging through what seemed like dozens and dozens of boxes. In her absence, Scorpius took the time to admire the products on the shelves.

Skiving Snackboxes. Punching telescope. He imagined what his grandfather might say if he could see him now.

While Gabriel checked the Quidditch display - Wheezes had recently partnered with the Wimbourne Wasps, and were selling players' jumpers that rooted and whistled when you moved a certain way - Scorpius took the stairs, and found their venture into more feminine-targeted products. There was a bright pink love potion, a brush that attached to one's wand to do their makeup, a bubbling acne cream, and lipsticks - courtesy of another partnership with Madam Primpernelle's from Diagon Alley - that supposedly tasted of the three Amortentia scents when you kissed the person you fancied.

Seeing as none of this interested him - he could do with a spray to make him Leanne-repellent - he descended the stairs. It was as his eyes flickered over the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder that he caught a glint of silver and blue. Curious, he checked to see what Gabriel was up to - chatting up Roxanne Weasley by the look of it - and took the bottle off the shelf.

_Patented Daydreams_, the label read in swirling cursive. _Take a sip and dip into your dizziest daydream! Now customizable._ There were different fantasies on the packaging, all involving some sort of love interest. His mind was already ten steps ahead of him, thinking of the girl he hadn't seen at Puddifoot's or the Three Broomsticks, so he pocketed it, fishing for Knuts in his coat.

"So what have you been up to?" Gabriel asked, while Roxanne smiled as though flattered.

"Well, for starters, I have a boyfriend."

"Oh?"

"Mmhmm."

"And what does this 'boyfriend' do?" Gabriel punctuated his question with air quotes, while Scorpius rolled his eyes, knowing he had no chance.

"Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Former protegee of Amos Diggory."

"Has he got a name?"

"Asher Kneen."

"Never heard of him."

Roxanne laughed loudly at this. "Ruthless, aren't you?" She was smiling, and pointedly looked him up and down.

"But enough about him, what are you up to?"

"I have rehearsals at the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts for their new show, which you should totally see -" She pointed at the two of them, and Scorpius took the opportunity to put the potion on the counter beside the Wheezes' Wonky Broom Polish, and several other products Gabriel had found.

"Shameless self-promotion, hmm?" She closed her eyes briefly as though racking her brain for a memory.

"_That's_ what I forgot to bring today! I had a whole stack of posters I was going to hang up and distribute -" She Summoned a notepad and Quick Quotes Quill, which scribbled something hastily before dropping lifeless into a drawer behind the desk. "I reckon I've told you enough. That'll be twenty-two sickles." She smoothed out the sleeve of her magenta robes, and picked up Scorpius' item.

"Daydream Charms, eh? Envisioning all the scenarios where Slytherin takes the Cup?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Something like that," he said with a smirk.

Gabriel's eyebrows jumped. "A bit pricy, isn't it?" He commented, and amusement glittered in her eyes.

"The price to pay for guilty pleasures is hardly worth arguing over. Besides, you're not on the brink of poverty anytime soon, Malfoy." He merely shrugged in noncommittal.

They placed their money on the counter while she flicked her wand, sending the multi-colored boxes into a plastic tote with the triple W logo. "So which one of you is Captain?" She asked, brown eyes flicking over the both of them. Then they stopped on Scorpius. "It's you, isn't it? You might have a better chance at winning this year with my cousin, brother, and I gone."

"That was almost a traitorous statement," Gabriel said.

She checked the bottom of the items, and looked up dismissively. "From my memory, you're both ridiculously good flyers, and you did end up catching the Snitch, but it was really unlucky for a final match in your first year as captain." Roxanne had graduated a year before, when Scorpius had been named Captain in his fifth year. It was his bad luck that James Potter had been Gryffindor's Captain, and was hellbent on continuing the streak of red and gold wins gracing the trophy case.

"Anyway, there was something else I forgot too." She flicked her wand like a whip and a shoebox zoomed in from the backroom. "Have either of you seen my cousin Rose?"

Scorpius had always been talented at withholding emotion from his facial expressions, and schooled his blank.

Gabriel, thankfully, was the one to reply. "I saw her walk into Gladrags about three hours ago, with some brick-looking bloke. Then I -"

"Brick-looking bloke?" she repeated, smiling widely.

Gabriel shrugged. "He was a bloke, and he looked like a brick. Speaks for itself, doesn't it?" Roxanne rolled her eyes, and gestured for him to continue. "Then I was coming out of Puddifoot's and saw her take a carriage back with Brick Bloke. What about it?"

She pointed to the floating shoebox, stamped with some brand name that Scorpius vaguely recognized from shopping trips with his mother and aunt. "I was hoping she'd stop by and pick these up, 'cause I haven't had the time to owl them, but if one of you could pass them on to her, I'd be very grateful."

"Sure," Scorpius found himself saying.

"Thanks! Have a good rest of your day!" She waved them out, and the two Slytherins headed up the road.

"What's with the Daydream Charm?"

Scorpius was grateful he'd thought of an excuse in the store. "Imagine if the Gryffindor Team caught a whiff of this at breakfast, hmm?"

Gabriel grinned. "Royally fucked. I like it." Though they had played Gryffindor a month ago, they would be matched again to determine which team would enter the finals. Slytherin had taken the lead, having earned 460 points in that match alone - begrudgingly thanks to Matthew - while Gryffindor moved up on the ladder, exceeding Ravenclaw's current score by twenty points. Hopefully, Gabriel's purchase would prove to not be worthless, and Scorpius' second year as Slytherin captain would end in victory.

He waved down a carriage as soon as they reached the end of Hogsmeade High Street. They sat with a group of Ravenclaw fourth years, who were playing Exploding Snap. Scorpius had half a mind to join, recalling the fate of Gabriel's eyebrows and his frantic search for a quill to draw them back on before meeting up with a bird; he'd nearly howled with laughter at her horrified expression. But his mind was preoccupied with the shoebox in the shopping bag, and the earnest look Roxanne Weasley had given him when she had asked if either of them could take it to Rose. His eyes snapped to Gabriel's. "Who's Brick Bloke?"

He blinked in confusion, then remembered. "The guy with Rose? I dunno, didn't recognize him." At Scorpius's pressing look, he added, "He's probably a seventh year. Not our house."

"Interesting."

"Jealous of his awe-inspiring looks?" Gabriel asked with a wicked smile. "That he's got something you don't, and you could never compete -"

"SNAP!" cried the boys, and Gabriel jumped as the shrapnel of an exploding card grazed his arm and flew out the window. Scorpius snickered, ending the conversation until they reached the grounds.

The snowfall was light and speckled their coats as the carriage rolled away; Gabriel shivered and walked briskly up the steps before basking in the warmth of the Entrance Hall. Scorpius joined him at a sconce flanking the doors of the Great Hall. Students that had returned milled about, showing each other their purchases while they walked to their respective common rooms.

"You coming?" Gabriel asked, and pointed to the dungeon steps.

Scorpius shook his head, but transferred the Patented Daydream Charms from his bag to the other, so all that remained was the shoebox for Rose. "Later," he replied, waving him off. "I'd better not find you tripping when I get back."

Gabriel shooed him off. "You're sure you don't want to powder your nose before you meet the mistress?"

Scorpius gave him the middle finger and departed for the library, which he knew to be Rose's safe haven. As Gabriel had suggested, he did not feel the need to adjust his appearance before talking to her; as he passed the Transfiguration classroom, a group of girls began to giggle and whispered feverishly among themselves.

Smirking, he opened the door to the library and stalked down the aisles until he found the girl in question.

She was bent over a book, sitting with one leg crossed over the other. Every few seconds she would scribble something down on a separate sheaf of paper, then scratch it out before proceeding to what appeared to be the next item on her list. She wore a beige jumper under a black pinafore with sheer black tights and taupe combat boots. Her hair flowed in loose curls beneath a beanie that had a faux fur pom-pom on top.

Silently, he strode over to her and plucked it off her head.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, grabbing at the air for the thief, then found Scorpius leaning against the wall, tossing it into the air. "Give it back, Malfoy."

"Manners, Weasley. What's the magic word?"

"_Avada Kedavra_?" she mused sardonically.

"Well then, I guess you can say goodbye to your shoes as well."

"My shoes?" She repeated, quizzically. Then the lightbulb seemed to go off and her eyes sought the shopping bag swinging from his arm. "That's -" She accepted defeat and held her arm out placatingly. "Please could I have it back?"

Scorpius smirked, but relented her possessions. He watched as she opened the box and picked up her shoes from its nest of colored paper. A pair of mauve suede lace-up heels dangled from her hands.

"Took them long enough to decide the color," she muttered, before putting them aside. "Was Roxanne mad I didn't stop by?"

"No. I'm sure Brick Bloke's attention was far more important anyway," he replied smoothly.

Her eyebrows arched. "Brick Bloke?" She assumed a face similar to the one Scorpius wore when Gabriel mentioned him. "Oh, you mean Jeremy."

"McClaggen," he said, recognizing the name immediately. A member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, he worshiped the ground beneath James Potter's feet and was constantly hanging around the Weasley-Potters. "I thought you had standards, Weasley."

She looked both affronted and amused. "It's - I'm starting my Christmas shopping early so I can buy presents before the prices hike up. I want to get a kit for Albus and new gear for Lily, and since his family are Quidditch fanatics like mine, they own a franchise in Hogsmeade that sells that sort of thing."

Scorpius put two and two together. "So you buttered up to him for a discount?"

She blushed, and he quite liked the rush of pink that tinted her cheeks. "Well, yes and no. My cousin James, who graduated last year, plays for the Kenmare Kestrels and Jeremy's family shop sponsors them, so he was happy to oblige." Rose didn't feel the need to explain that it was actually a date, one that had gone horribly except for the discount, because she didn't think she could stand anymore criticism under those intense grey eyes of his.

Unfortunately, he just about read her mind and decided to pull up a chair for interrogation. "You realize you could've owled him if you wanted a discount."

She flashed her eyes in annoyance. "I know that -"

"Or you could've batted your eyelashes, and pulled the name card," he supplied, examining his nails for nonexistent dirt. Having achieved his goal of riling her up, he smirked gloatingly while she struggled to reply. "I'm never wrong, Weasley."

She glared at him and put down her quill. "You've done what you came for, so kindly leave."

"I didn't hear a thank you," he said.

"Thanks," she mumbled, and glanced down to her Gladrags catalog, circling a moving picture of a witch modeling a black leather biker hat. She then wrote 'Molly' beside it, and flipped to the next page. Aware that he had neither moved his seat nor left, she turned to him, only to find their faces very close. She exhaled as his breath fanned her nose, blue eyes connecting with grey. "What're you -"

"I'm still waiting for my thank-you," he said, eyes searching her face, then descending to her parted lips.

"Good luck with that," she said, having found her ability to speak again.

"You know you want to," he breathed into her ear when she turned back to the catalog.

"I don't," she replied forcefully. He brushed her hair away from her face and lowered his lips to graze her earlobe.

"You're no fun, Weasley." His teeth nipped at the skin beneath her ear, and she swallowed, looking away.

There was no one in the library besides a few younger students poring over a comic and a group of studious Hufflepuffs comparing a diagram at the far end. No one in her vicinity besides him.

Deciding to ignore him until he got bored with her noncompliance and left, she scanned the table of contents so she could shop for her father. Men's Accessories… Page 57. Her thumb found 52, 59, then 57.

Ron Weasley was always complaining that it got cold at home, or it was freezing in the Wheezes' shop at Diagon Alley, or it was absolutely arctic in the Ministry, etcetera. When brainstorming for potential gifts, she first thought of a trench coat, like those of the Aurors. Then remembering that it might trigger unhappy memories of the war's aftermath, she opted for jumpers. She wondered if it wasn't overdone, seeing as Gran knitted everyone jumpers each Christmas. She was still able to fit into hers from fourth year, and wore them as extra layers when she slept. If not a jumper, then maybe a scarf? Most of the catalog models wore their scarves in posh fashion, twisting them in complicated knots that both insulated the neck and possibly caused asphyxiation.

Rose tried to envision her father wearing a wool scarf like the wizard in the picture, but could find no such image coming to her. Since she had turned away from Scorpius, he had not given up in getting her attention, and now planted a trail of kisses down her neck. Rather than halt his ministrations, she had only given him more access, and found herself tilting her head to expose more skin to his lips. "Malfoy," she breathed shakily, "I can't… concentrate."

Though this was a crucial piece of information that she should not have admitted, all thoughts of getting him to leave were beyond her now.

"That's the idea," he murmured against her skin, biting her neck before gently flicking his tongue over the hurt, sucking it better. He spoke in that low, gravelly voice that made her heartbeat quicken, one of his legs sliding up her own, adding to the delicious friction…

"Stop," she said, nearly panting. "You've got a girlfriend, remember?"

Surprisingly he had obeyed, and watched her closely while she packed up her things. "Minor details."

"That's not fair to her, Scorpius." He shook his head in disinterest, ignoring the jab.

"You liked it," was all he said, while she placed the catalog and quill into the shopping bag he'd brought. "Don't lie."

Rose didn't reply as she walked away, leaving him smirking in his chair.

Scorpius sat up and walked back to the dungeons a minute later, replaying what had happened. He had succeeded in getting under her skin. He was sure he was one of the only people who could do that, given the frosty glare she sent his way when he had mentioned pulling the name card. It had happened only seconds ago, but the smell of her perfume was dissipating rapidly, and he wanted it back. He'd smelled it once in Amortentia, at the start of the year, and if close to her, could recall it like a breath of air. It was rich and decadent, like pastries fresh out of the oven.

_"Thank you, Mister Malfoy. Continuing our discussion of why Amortentia is one of the most potent love potions in the world - this will be an essay question on your winter examination - who can tell me why the smell of baked goods, perfume, and cologne are some of the most recognized scents? Miss Weasley?" _

_"Baked goods are associated with the interpersonal relationships an individual forms throughout their life, most importantly those they establish in their childhood and adolescence, which are focal points in their development. Food is generally thought to bring people together, either for the romantic connotation or familial connection. The ingredients within Amortentia are recognized by neurotransmitters like dopamine and serotonin, which are produced when we feel accomplished or are surrounded by those we love, hence why we also smell perfume and cologne in the potion, because those are the signature scents the brain remembers." Content with her answer, though shy from the attention, Rose looked away, blushing. _

_"Twenty points to Gryffindor for that elaborate explanation. I daresay she's just given you the answer, so be sure to write that down somewhere in your textbooks…" _

Scorpius had reached the dungeons, and uttered the password to the Slytherin common room. Reaching his dorm, he found Gabriel was lounging on his bed, reading the instructions on the back of the Weasley's Wonky Broom Polish box.

"Damien, Noah, and Matthew still aren't back?" he asked, pulling back the curtain of his bed to see that Gabriel had thankfully not touched the Daydream potion.

The other boy shook his head. "No. They're either still fooling around with that waitress or on the way." He glanced at his watch and walked around the bed to open his trunk. "I'm gonna shower, so tell them not to touch that, yeah?"

Scorpius nodded and kicked off his shoes, sending them under the bed.

The door to the bathroom slammed shut, the sounds of water running and faucets creaking muffled. He was alone now. Breathing much harder, he closed the curtain around his bed, and examined the bottle much more closely.

It was small enough to fit in his fist, colored in the gaudy orange that had decorated the store, with a silver and blue cap in the shape of a heart. The glass wasn't nearly as opaque as he'd thought it to be; the contents were neither liquid nor gas, but swirled murkily to the brim in a dark blue mist. Taking a deep breath, he opened the cap and inhaled the mist.

His vision blurred in that cobalt haze, and gone were the thoughts of Leanne and Gabriel, of the upcoming match against Gryffindor, of the noisy pub and quiet library…

Eyes now opened, he was still in his bed in the Slytherin dorms, only there were no muted sounds of the bathroom or the students downstairs tapping at the glass that looked out on the depths of the Black Lake. It was him, alone, in that dreamy silence which no one dared disturb.

Then the curtain pulled back, and his choice of company was desirable indeed. Rose was leaning against his four-poster bed, holding the Weasley's Wonky Broom Polish with a rather amused gleam in her eyes. "Sabotage, hmm? I knew you were Slytherin for a reason," she said, and closed the emerald green curtain behind her.

She was not wearing her outfit from earlier that day, and had changed into a loose, bronze silk blouse unbuttoned just enough to reveal a long gold chain, at the end of which hung a ring. He swallowed as she climbed onto the bed, with her hair tumbling down her shoulders in glamorous curls, eyelids shimmering with bronze behind long eyelashes.

It became clear that the blouse was much too big for her when her bare legs brushed against his, dragging up and up in that friction he'd felt in the library. The silk slipped off her shoulder and accentuated the contour of her collarbone curving down to the valley of her breasts, where the ring hung. She fished for it and held it out for him to see.

The letter M, in black, silver, and green dominated the signet ring, with ornate carvings of a serpentine creature on either side of his initial. On the band was his family motto: _Sanctimonia Vincet Semper._

"Purity will always conquer," Rose translated in a purring voice, unhooking the ring from the chain around her neck and placing it on her finger. "You never struck me as someone with pure intentions."

"I'm with you, aren't I?" His gaze lowered to her cleavage momentarily, then took in the playful, yet sensuous look in her eyes.

"I don't know if that was supposed to refer to me being half-blood, or…you wanting me." A sultry lilt to her voice, she sucked gently on his earlobe while he tugged at the buttons of her blouse. Now straddling him, the scent of Amortentia wafted over her, the lingering cinnamon and nutmeg along the nape of her neck, the caramel drizzled on her ivory complexion, the butterscotch on her rouged cheeks, the treacle cloying on her parted lips…

"Kiss me," she breathed.

"I have a girlfriend," he whispered into her mouth, hiking the hem of her blouse up her thigh.

"Minor details." And she closed the gap between them, kissing him slowly as time crawled like molasses. Through the surrealism, he had flipped Rose over so she was beneath him, face tinged pink while he planted scorching kisses from her jawline down to her sternum, divesting himself of his trousers and jumper while she peeled off the silk and arched her smooth, lithe body to his, giving into the passion he so craved.

"I want you now," he groaned into the shell of her ear as the pressure between them mounted, his hands clutching her waist. He could feel himself approaching ecstasy, her nails raking up his back as she moaned, and -

"Scorpius? Where's the broom polish I just bought?" came Gabriel's voice from faraway, and Rose was detaching herself from him, slipping back into silk with a rustle from the curtains, which flew open.

"How the fuck would I know? Did I buy it?" he snapped harshly, missing the taste of her lips immensely.

Gabriel only smirked. "The loo's free, mate. You can blow off whatever's got your knickers in a twist." He eyed the bottle, then pointed to the opened door, steam curling out.

"I'll take you up on that," Scorpius muttered, grabbing his towel, and heading towards the closest stall.

Gabriel exited the room with a huff, taking the broom polish with him.

"Good riddance." Once the water began running, he began to strip.

Thinking of what could have been had he not been so rudely interrupted, Scorpius Summoned the Patented Daydreams and adjusted the temperature to hot.

A guilty pleasure unfinished, he smirked as the blue haze took over him and the face of his fantasies appeared, unfettered by illusion.


End file.
